


honey, this mirror ain't big enough for the two of us

by luvridden



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Blood and Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Will Graham is a Tease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvridden/pseuds/luvridden
Summary: assassin au
Relationships: Bella Crawford/Jack Crawford, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. well, i'll choose the life i've taken

“Son of a bitch,” Will cursed into his earpiece.

“What’s wrong?” Matthew asked, his voice tinny in the receiver.

“There’s another one in here with me,” he murmured in response, eyes flicking around the dimly lit living room. Someone comes up behind him, clapping a hand over his mouth and kicking at the back of his knee. Will grunts, elbowing their chest and spinning on his left leg into a roundhouse kick. As the person is caught off guard, he catches their hand and pokes a knife into their side. He tilts his head with a feral grin, eyebrow lifting when he feels a sharp nudge in his side. 

“I applaud your self defense skills.” his attacker said, voice low and accented. 

HIs eyebrows raise higher in mock shock, hand moving to press against his chest in a dramatic gesture when he feels the bones encased in an iron grip. He scoffs and snarls, trying to wrench his wrist free. “You know, I’d feel better about you congratulating me if you didn’t have my wrist almost crushed.” he said before biting his attackers wrist. 

His attacker flinches back at being bit, knife still at Will’s side. “Primitive.”

“Amateur.” Will spat back, lip twitching up before he quells the snarl. “I won’t attack you if you don’t attack me. Sound fair?” he asked, taking his knife back and pocketing it. 

Attacker tilts his head and rescinds his knife. “Forgive my being so blunt, but what the hell are you doing here?”

Will’s eyebrow lifts at the challenge. “Coming to say hi to…” 

“Neil Strong?” 

Will’s eyes narrow, and he nods slowly. “I take it you had him as a job too.”

His opponent said in a clipped tone, “And we were both too trigger happy.” 

Will’s teeth flash from the sliver of moonlight filtering in from a gauzy window cover. “Can never be too careful on a job,” he smirked, gesturing between them. “Bloodhound,” he introduced himself, not holding a hand out. 

“Ravenstag.” he introduced, also not holding a hand out. “Shall we rock paper scissors to see who shall finish the job?” he teased sarcastically.

Will laughed. “I thought maybe your game of choice would be chess.” 

“Clever boy.” Thankfully, he can’t see Will pink. 

“I’d like to do my job, please.” Will sighed, ignoring the compliment.

Ravenstag answered, “Hm, you may have to fight me for it.”

Will scoffed, folding his arms, “Well, I’m glad this is funny to you--” 

‘It’s not.” Ravenstag snapped. “This is the opposite of funny to me. This is just as an unpleasant situation as it is for you--”

“I didn’t ask for your life story.” Will bit back. 

“Excuse me for attempting to appeal to your sympathies,”

Will opened his mouth to argue further when his head snapped to the stairs, where the target was standing. Thankfully, it was still dark. “I’ll argue with you later.” he hissed, melting into the shadows. 

Hannibal rolled his eyes and stood stock still, eyeing the target. He had barely decided to make his move before the target’s throat was slit. The target fell to his knees, a hand coming to staunch the blood flow before keeling over and dying. 

“Messy.” he sneered. 

Bloodhound scoffed and flicked on the lights, revealing himself to his hungry eyes. “It’s my signature.” he said, wiping the blood off on his shirt and sheathing the knife. “Tell your employers that Bloodhound says ‘hi’.” he winked, climbing out the window. Hannibal sighed and shot off a quick text to Bedelia before breaking the sim card in half and grinding it under his heel. 


	2. and it's hard to say, i'm shaking

The pulsing nightclub and neon lights made Will’s head pound in time to the bass. Once he caught sight of Jack, he beelined over to the section and sat down, crossing his legs at the knee and cocking his head as he asked: “What do you know about the assassin ‘Ravenstag’?”

Jack’s eyebrows went up one by one. 

“He was on my job last week, actually.” he continued, tossing back his beer and eyeing Jack over the rim of his glasses. 

“You had contact with Ravenstag?” he repeated, shocked. At Will’s flat look, he asked, “And did you still get the job done?”

Will sneered, “Of course I got the job done.” holding fingers up for a refill of his beer, he said, “I’m your top agent for a reason,  _ Guru _ .” he pointed out, folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I wouldn’t have faulted you if you hadn’t been able to.” Jack corrected. “He’s dangerous, Will.” he said, flipping his tablet to him and showing him security footage of Ravenstag. There he was, with cheekbones sharper than most of Will’s kitchen knives and a hideous blue baseball cap over his head. Probably stalking his target. “I don’t want you coming into contact with him more than this time.”

“He congratulated me on my self defense skills,” Will said, turning the tablet back and grinning crookedly at the waitress as she swapped out his beer. 

“A high compliment.” His wife, Bella, mused. “I'll admit that I'm surprised that you weren't killed on sight.”

“I bedazzled him with my boyish good looks and quick wit,” Will deadpanned. Bella smirked at the comment. 

*

Bedelia fumed as Hannibal turned up with the job not done. Well, done by him. “Did you get the name of your… opponent?” she asked, tone level.

“Bloodhound.” he answered simply. “About five foot ten, curly brown hair, blue eyes.” he described, tapping a finger against his thigh. 

Bedelia snapped, arms folded across her chest, “And why not kill him then and there?” 

_ Because he's too interesting _ . “He was too quick.” Hannibal retorted, counting her pacing steps. Four clicks forward, four clicks back. 

Abigail says nothing, only bringing up more footage of Bloodhound. She swivels the computer monitor to him, revealing Bloodhound with brown contacts in and a blonde wig. Nothing to conceal his tiny smirk with as he stares into the cameras. “He's currently under the name Aidan Beaumont at 76 Fisher road, apartment 2b.” she chirps, crunching noisily on a chip. Hannibal grimaces at her purposeful lack of decorum. 

“Will he interfere again?” Bedelia asks him impatiently, fingers tapping one by one on her arm. 

Hannibal tilts his head and assesses her in a way that makes her uneasy. Perhaps that's why she's the brains. She'll never outfox Hannibal though, and she knows that. 

“I don't believe he will.”

“But will you do what needs to be done if he interferes again?” she pointed out, levelling him with a raised eyebrow. 

  
_ No. I won't break a toy before I get a chance to play with it.  _ “Of course, Bedelia. Who do you take me for?”


	3. by the choices that i make

Inevitably, they met on another assignment; while canvassing and skulking in the periphery of some poor bastard. Randall something or other. 

“Ravenstag, are the knives really necessary?” Will huffed as the tip of the harpy knife poked into his back. Not enough to break the skin of his (well fitting) leather jacket, but enough to warn. 

Hannibal hummed, the quiet click showing the knife was sheathed again. Will spin around quickly, his own blade pressing into the soft skin around Hannibal’s waist. He raises an eyebrow in challenge, Will matching the expression. He sheathes his own knife, taking a large gulp of the white he had in his hand -- held improperly, Hannibal noted -- and sighed. “Well? What brings you to me again, Raven?”

Hannibal’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname. “A mutual target.” 

Will half scoffed in disbelief. “Again?” he murmured into his glass of wine. 

“I find this twist in fate equally as appalling.”

“You say that to reassure me, but I don't feel so reassured.” Will pointed out, smiling sweetly. He finished the wine and plunked it on the waiter's tray, shuffling his hands into his pockets. “Since I took the last one from you, you can have this one.”

“Compromising already?” Hannibal couldn't resist taunting. 

Will have him an unimpressed look. “I figured you didn’t want to share another kill, Raven.” 

“How courteous.” Hannibal hummed. “Forgive me, I was so interested in… in…” Hannibal started with a fake smile, unable to resist toying with someone. 

Will’s eyebrows go up slightly in amusement. “A fundraiser for the Republican party.” Hannibal’s face fell. Will snickers at him, grinning. It strikes Hannibal how attractive _and_ intelligent his opponent is. Could be was, but Hannibal was thoroughly invested at this point. 

“Unless you want me to swoop in and take the glory from you, again.” Will said casually, shrugging. Hannibal’s mouth ticks up into a snarl for a split second, which Will noticed and decided to be a little shit about. “ _Oh_ … you don’t like the idea?” he said with a mock innocent look on his face, expression open. “I could kill him right here, and nobody around here would notice.” he continued in a soft and condescending voice. Hannibal almost closed his eyes to the lilt, were it not for the possessive fire flickering in his chest. 

“I’ll be doing the killing, thank you.” he said stiffly, smoothing his lapels that were already smoothed. Will’s fingers tingled with the phantom sensation of brushing down the thick wool, hand clenching into a fist in his pocket to abate the urge to follow the path Hannibal’s palm was taking. 

“Which is what I was offering in the first place.” Will rolled his eyes. “If only you weren’t so difficult, love.” Hannibal steadfastly ignores his heart fluttering in his ribcage at the pet name. Someone must be in range of their conversation. 

Someone important, then, based on the change in Will’s eyes. “Mr. Beaumont, I’m so glad you could make it!” some woman gushed, standing to the side of the two men. “And who is this?” she asked, eyes flicking to Hannibal with light interest. 

“This,” said Will while striding forward and hanging himself over Hannibal, “is Michael Anderson. My boyfriend.” 

Hannibal is briefly surprised, allowing himself to be pulled into an embrace. “Darling, who’s this?” he asked, those blues then turned on him. 

“Beverly,” she says, holding out a polite hand and shaking his firmly. She eyes Will hanging on Hannibal, practically climbing him, and dismisses herself politely. 

“Who was that?” Hannibal asks Will, who hadn’t moved. 

“A colleague of mine.” he says. Hannibal feels a little ruffled that he did the act to mess with Hannibal. “Aww, not fun being on the receiving end of the ‘dance, monkey, dance’ game, now is it?” he tutted, disentangling himself and disappearing into the crowd. 

Later, Hannibal pats himself down to find the bug he had in his pocket was gone, and a note in its place: 

_na na nana na._

*

Will smirked and looked at the bug with pride, pocketing it and sauntering out of the ballroom. He's then snagged by the wrist and pinned to the wall with a loud thump, his head connecting to the wall. He grunts as impact is made, eyes shutting then opening to see Hannibal, fuming. “Give me that back.” he snarled.

Will only smiled. “If you want it, you're gonna have to look for it.” Only then does Hannibal see that he has four pockets. He half scoffs, half sighs, and quickly pats down Will's front. He found the bug after prying one of Will’s fists open, sticking it in his pockets himself. Will rolls his eyes at his fun being cut short, then raises an eyebrow at a knife digging into the skin of his throat. “Really? You're gonna kill me for taking your bug? Really, it was stupidly easy, you should be on better guard.” he taunted, uncaring of the knife digging deeper into the skin. 

Hannibal's nose twitched, revealing a snarl with sharp and crooked teeth. For a moment, Will finds himself briefly enraptured before forcing himself back to his careless facade. “You can't kill me here, Raven, it would be careless. And you would be caught.” He shrugged. 

Then, he tilts his chin up in a dare, revealing the long line of his neck. Hannibal stares at the (really it should be a crime for a _neck_ to be so inviting) column of his throat, then sheathes the switchblade. “Mhm.” Will drawls smugly, triumphant in calling Hannibal's bluff. 

Hannibal clicks the blade open and brings it to Will's neck and creates a thin and shallow cut. Before Will can react, he puts his mouth on the cut. Will’s shout is caught in his throat and comes out as a breathy whine, his hands entangling in Hannibal’s hair. Hannibal laps at the cut, relishing in Will's breath catching. Somebody clearing their throat catches their attention and both heads whip to the right. 

An unnamed person stands, face mercifully blank and stony. Hannibal straightens and hopes his face isn't flushed, dipping his chin in a nod at the unspoken words of 'no making out in the gallery’. He takes Will by the elbow and hustles them back to the main event, where they split up.

*

“Son of a bitch!” Beverly nearly shouted, then lowered her voice to a hiss. “Will, you have a hickey!” 

His hand flies to the thin cut. “It's a cut, Bev,”

“Yeah? that why you got a red suck mark around it?” She said, digging into her pockets for a mirror and flashing it at him. Indeed, there was a red mark around it. Will shivers at the memory of Hannibal’s mouth on his skin. “Ah-ha! See?!” she said. “I knew it was a hickey.”

He belatedly tries to cover the mark, face flushing in embarrassment. “Graham has a hickey?” Freddie said from behind him. 

_Son of a goddamn bitch._ Will swore mentally, whirling around and fake smiling. “Freddie! What do I owe the pleasure?” taking in her hideous ensemble, he grimaced. I mean really, the woman is an assassin -- does subtlety mean nothing to her? How she hasn't been caught because of those eyesores is beyond him. 

“Nothing.” she said smugly, eyeing the cut on his throat. Delayed, he covers the line and the light red ring around it. She catches it and smirks at him. She nods and leaves silently, poking fun at him non-verbally. 

“Bitch.” Beverly said once she was gone. Will would have to agree.


	4. and i find it hard to stay, with the words you say

Jack's eyes are narrowed at Will as they stand in his office. “You met the Ravenstag  _ again _ ?” he asked. Will figured it would be better to be silent. “How has he not killed you yet?”

_ Because he likes me. I think. _ Will thought.  _ Or he liked sucking on my neck.  _

“Aside from that,” he said, crossing the room and shutting the door, “we have a problem.”

“Oh?” Will asked, eyebrow up in interest.

“We have a leak.” Jack revealed, Will's stomach flipping and filling with dread. “I found the leak, but you're not going to be happy with who it is.” he said in a low voice, wary of who could be listening. 

“Go on, Jack.” Will said impatiently, crossing his arms and tapping his index finger against his bicep. 

Jack sighed and dipped his chin in defeat. “It's Matthew.” 

Will's stomach sank further. “And what are we going to do about it?” he asked, tone low. He wondered if the room was bugged, before realizing that the various disarray of the room showed Jack turning his office up, down, and inside out before calling Will in. 

“We have to kill him, and whoever he's been leaking to.” Jack said emotionlessly. “We haven't been able to find  _ who _ he leaked to, but Freddie and Beverly are on it.” 

“Son of a bitch.” said Will. “Who's gonna do it?” 

Jack asked dryly, “Are you offering?” 

Will shrugged and made a face. “If no-one else is going to…” 

“Good, you're on it.” Jack said. Will felt a little sad that he was going to have to kill the closest thing to a friend he had, then batted the thought away with the reminder that he was selling secrets. Dangerous secrets. Either to Hannibal’s organization or another one.  _ The son of a bitch. _

As he was sneaking through the house, someone sprung up behind him, using Will's own weight against him in a way that took the two down to the floor. Will was straddled, Matthew’s hands wrapping around his throat and starting to choke him out. Will gasped for air, legs kicking futilely. Just as his vision was going black at the edges, someone wrestled him off of Will and distracted him with a fistfight. It was Beverly, incapacitating him with a headlock as he tried to buck her off his back.  He took the time to catch his breath, kipping up and punching Matthew in the nose. Beverly lets go for him to be able to complete the job, Matthew defenseless. “You don't have to hurt me,” he gasped out. Beverly kicks at his knees, sending him to kneel on the floor as Will tips his chin up with the knife and surveys his prey. 

“You shouldn't have leaked.” countered Will. “Tell me who and I’ll kill you quick.”

“Defaulting to torture?” Hannibal quipped behind him, dodging when Beverly threw her knife at his head. 

“I never said I still wouldn't kill him quick. He's worthless to me.” Will said, noting how Matthew wilted at the venom of his words. 

Hannibal hummed in acknowledgment. “Yes, but the information he has is of value to you. And as far as you know, he's the only person who engaged in the leak.”

Will stilled, turning his chin to look over his shoulder at Hannibal. “You're implying there's someone else in my organization who leaked.” he said. 

“How can you trust what I say?” Hannibal tutted. 

“That's a fair point.” Will agreed, “But why then say that as far as  _ I _ know he's the only one who leaked? You don't seem the kind of man to fumble over what he says.” 

Hannibal smiles. “Clever boy.” he admired. 

“So who's the other one?” Will pressed, knife easing its pressure on Matthew. Hannibal's smile widens, showing the very tips of his teeth. Will rolls his eyes and scoffs. “What, did  _ you _ leak?” he asked, exasperated. 

“I did not.” Hannibal said, sounding offended at the notion. “In fact, it was also Brian Zeller,” he revealed, “but, he's more use to yours alive.” Matthew whimpered at the idea that he wasn't useful; Will tired of him and slit his throat, stepping out of the way of the arterial spray. He cleans the knife on his shirt again, ignoring what must be Hannibal's somewhat disgusted expression. Beverly eyes the pair and takes her leave through the window, leaving the two men alone. 

Will sighed and tucked his knife away. “Did he leak to you and yours?” he interrogated. 

“No, it was a third party organization.” he said, rocking back and forth on his heels. “A mutual enemy, it seems.”

Will suppressed a sneer. “A smaller one, I'm willing to bet. So Matthew leaked, and Zeller leaked.” 

Hannibal couldn't resist taunting, “Yours needs to get better at checking which agents are actually on their side.” 

Will sneered at him. “You should be so quick to judge.” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“Tell me Will,” Hannibal said, bulldozing over Will, “was it easy to kill Matthew?”

Will shrugs. 

“Do you indulge in regret for killing him?” he pressed.

“Did he indulge in regret for leaking to the third party?” Will snapped back. Then, he checked the time. “It's getting late. Do you wanna continue this conversation tomorrow?” 

“I'd prefer we keep talking now.” Hannibal said, passing Will and climbing out the window too. “Going my way?” he asked. 

*

They sat in a booth at some cheap diner, two coffees between them. “So… how do you know Zeller leaked?” Will asked, his hands wrapped around the coffee cup. 

“I have my sources.” Hannibal said enigmatically.

Will smirked down at his cup. “‘Sources’ my ass.” he snorted. “We really have got to stop meeting like that,” he joked. 

“How else do I meet you?” Hannibal parried, leaning forward. 

“You could ask me for my number. Or something normal like that.” 

Hannibal decided to play the game. “Very well, what’s your number?”

“Thirty-four.” Will said dryly, chuckling at his down joke. Hannibal tried not to roll his eyes, he really did. His grin widens with mirth at seeing Hannibal actually roll his eyes at someone. Hannibal begins chuckling at the infectiousness of Will's laugh, eyes softening at the corners. “Here,” he said, patting himself down for a marker and holding out his hand. Hannibal hesitantly gave him his hand, holding it out palm up.

He winced when the velvet tip of the marker touches his palm, trying not to close his palm at the tickling feeling. It works, and he remains with Will's phone number on his left palm. “You could've done that on a napkin.” he sniffed. 

Will smiles secretively. “Maybe I wanted an excuse to touch you.” 

“Maybe I wanted to be touched by you.” Hannibal flirted back, smiling when Will blushed. 

“Anyway, how did you come to be in this business?” Will asked, leaning back confidently.

Hannibal scrunches his lips together when he thinks back. “It was a debt of mine.” Will nods solemnly, not pressing on that wound. “How did you?” he probed. 

Will makes a face and stays silent for half a minute. “Something along the lines of I joined for the hell of it.” 

The waitress sets down their plates, Will digging into his waffles with vigor. Hannibal eats with more restraint. “What made them give you the name?” asked Will.

“I chose it.” answered Hannibal. “What made them give you Bloodhound?”

Will smirked around his fork. “I'm good at sniffing out my targets.” he said. 

They ate over scattered conversation and hidden smiles, Will leaning back and looking at Hannibal appraisingly. When they split at the end of the night, Hannibal spent the rest of it staring at his palm with the purple numbers. He swallowed his pride and texted first:

_ It's Hannibal. _

Nearly a second after he sent that, he got back a text from Will.  _ Hi, Hannibal. Tonight was nice.  _

_ I'm inclined to agree.  _

_ I'll see you the next mission we meet ‘accidentally’.  _

_ Very well.  _


	5. how it's going to be

Bedelia du Maurier stared disdainfully at Jack Crawford, all of her group across from Jack's. Mentally, she did a head count. Alana, Abigail, Hannibal, Margot, herself. Then; Bloodhound, Gotcha, and Tattler, along with the Guru. “So…” she began leisurely, “it seems we have a mutual problem.”

Abigail popped her gum, the projection screen lighting up with information. 

“Randall Tier was a part of this organization.” Jack realized. Shrike, Maestro, and the Copycat stared back at the eight. 

“And two of our own leaked information to them.” Will finished. He sighed out his nose and drummed his fingers against the table. “So what do we do?” he asked Jack. 

At Jack’s silence, he prodded, “You’re not proposing a team-up, are you?” 

Alana interrupted with, “It would be a safer option.”

Hannibal and Abigail still looked hesitant. “Ideally…” she started, talking slowly as if still thinking it over, “I’d run background checks on everyone who works for us. Of course, most of these people are smart enough to not make it electronic -- except that my programs are smarter.” she humble bragged, reaching forward from her crouch in her chair to quickly run software that would double check everybody there’s been a hit on with everyone who carried out the hit. Cross referencing who did what at what job, she found that Matthew and Randall had worked with the third organization, along with Zeller. She plastered their faces up on the screen, along with further unknown members -- the good Doctor Chilton cropping up under the third organization. 

“Okay..” Will said, processing what was laid out in front of everyone, “now that we’ve teamed up -- what do we do about them?”

Jack sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, Bella rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. “Some of these people are more useful alive. We’d cripple their organization by undermining every hit they try to carry out, ideally by killing every one of them. No, we’ll have to get into their servers and find--”

Abigail already pulled up who does what job on the screen. 

He thanked her and mentally divided up who did what job. There were about fifteen people on that list. He eyed Bedelia, standing and taking her aside. “How do we divide up so few jobs with the eight people we have?” he asked her. 

“Some may have to… partner up.” she said reluctantly. “I have far more than I brought, these are my top few.” she explained. 

Meanwhile, Will caught Hannibal’s eyes, cocking a brow subtly as if to ask his opinion. Hannibal smirked and looked away, biting down on his lower lip to abate a slight chuckle. Will felt a blush rise, stamping down on it before looking once more at Hannibal's lip. Hannibal catches him, giving Will a heated glance before glancing around to make sure nobody else saw. He looks back to find Will smiling secretively before schooling his face to neutral again as Bedelia and Jack come back. 

“We have decided to pair some up.” she said, nodding at Jack.

“Bloodhound, you will be with Mare. Tattler, you with Rose. Gotcha, Ravenstag, you will be working alone.” Jack said, motioning to who was who. “Z is currently on probation, but Money will relay the information to him. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” 

*

Mare -- or ‘Mary’, as she tells him to call her -- is sharp. Way too observant. Hawklike. Just the way Will likes his people. He could get along well with her, he thinks. She has a firm handshake and doesn't comment on his choice to only look her in the eyes when they introduce each other, so she's pretty okay in his book. Knows when to keep her mouth shut about something. “Christian, I do believe you have a signature.” she said. 

“As do you, Mary.” he returned. Carving horse faces into her victims. 

“But we don't want them to know we teamed up, so we have to create something new.” she replied, thinking out loud. He could tell by the set of her fingers against the wood. She wanted to drum them, but was unsure of how it would be received. 

He mentally adds meticulous and keen to his expanding list of verbs for her. “Or we leave out the signatures completely.”

She nods and they fall into silence. “Why not have us kill all those within the organization?” she prodded. 

“Because then we have unsatisfied customers.”

She countered with, “Why not have us then track down the client base and steal the clients?”

“There will always be more clients.” Will shrugged, tapping his fingers on the table. “I'll ask Guru why we don't kill them, actually -- thank you, Mary.”

She smiles a placid smile. “Of course, Christian. Why give you the name of ‘Bloodhound’?”

“Why, you don't like it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow jauntily.

She grinned at him then -- bared her teeth, really -- and answered with, “Out of curiosity.”

“Because I'm good at sniffing out my targets.” he snarked dryly. “Why did they name you ‘Mare’?”

“Because they found me among my horses.” she replied, now drawing invisible patterns on the wood. “I'll be in touch.” she stood, and escorted herself out of the room. Will stood and called Jack, free to pace around the room.

“Jack, Mare pointed something out to me.”

“Oh?” he said, bemused. 

“Why not kill the organization? We carry out the hits, sure, but then there's always more clients.”

Jack pointed out, “We can't just kill the organization, then the hits won't be carried out.”

“So we do both. We hunt down the people, force them to give who has a hit put on them, then we hit the people.” Will says. There’s a pause on the other line as Jack processes what was said, Will waiting with bated breath.

“You're right.” 

Will lets out the breath with a loud whoosh. “Thanks.”

“I'll let Du Maurier know.” he said, then a click as the line went dead. 

Meanwhile, his phone buzzed, not a second later, with a message from Ravenstag. Will hopes it’s not about how he was brazenly looking at his lips. As he opened it, he flooded with relief when he saw the simple line. 

  
_ Can we meet? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, mare is Margot. Everyone else seems self explanatory. Spot the references to Hugh and Katharine's discographies.


	6. and this vanity i'm breaking

Will lets out a relieved and exhausted breath when he sees Hannibal sat in their booth with a coffee and untouched pancakes. He slides into the seat, smiling charmingly at the waitress, who blushes as she fills his coffee. “So… what did you want to talk about?” he hedged, licking the tip of his finger and dipping it into the coffee, running it across the rim of the cup to create a small whining noise. He doesn’t wince at the heat. 

“What are your thoughts?”

Will half grimaces. “United we stand, divided we fall,” he decided after a moment, glancing up at Hannibal through his eyelashes. “What about you?” 

Hannibal hummed and pursed his lips. “I wish we worked together. We’d be a good team.”

Will scoffed. “You just think I’m pretty.”

“Perhaps, but you have a work ethic to be rivalled by mine.”

“Smug bastard.” Will said without any venom, then downs his coffee. 

Hannibal replied with a quirk of the brow, “You’ve looked in the mirror lately?” 

Will pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense, face open in an innocent expression. “Ouch, that hurt.” he said, reaching across the table and pulling the plate of untouched pancakes to himself. 

“I was going to eat that.” Hannibal sniffed. He wasn’t, but he thinks Bloodhound already knew that. 

“Oh please.” Will said around a mouthful, “You’d look more at home in a fancy three piece suit and something you can’t eat with your hands.”

Hannibal shrugged in acquiescence. “So, Aidan--”

Will blinks, jaw stopped mid-chew. “How’d you know my name?”

Hannibal blinks in mock surprise, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing when he said that. “Forgive me, I was simply...”

“Simply what?” Will starts, his tone sharp. “Why do you know my name?”

Hannibal let out a breath -- not quite a sigh -- and put his hands palm up on the table. “My organization did some research on you.” This was, unfortunately, going the way he wanted it to.

Will finds his appetite has soured and pushed the pancakes away from himself. “Okay.” he said simply. “I guess I should tell you, Lucas, that my organization has done some research on you too.”

_ So that’s how that feels. _ Hannibal thought. 

“Really, you should get better at encrypting your machines.” Will advised, cutting up another section of pancake. “It was stupidly easy to get in and out.” 

“Lucas isn’t my real name.”

“Aidan isn’t mine either.” Will said, popping his neck. “It would’ve been more worrying if you said my  _ actual _ name, but you didn’t. Thanks for the heads-up.” 

Hannibal raised his eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

Will shrugged. “I stayed in one place too long.”

“I have an extra room if you need lodging,” Hannibal offered. 

That makes Will chuckle, leaning back and rubbing his mouth. “Shouldn’t we take it a bit slower before you ask me to move in?”

That makes Hannibal blush and look down. “Like what.”

“How about our real names.”

Hannibal balks. “I'm afraid I cannot do that just yet,”

“That's good, because neither can I.” Will agreed, leaning forward. “And sorry, but I won't be moving in with you. Tempting as the offer may be...” he said, purposefully looking Hannibal up and down slowly.

Hannibal bit down on the inside of his cheek at Will’s roving eyes. “May I ask why?”

Will shrugged one shoulder and grinned coquettishly. “I don't like you that much.” 

How cute. “You will.”

Will cocked a brow, grin widening. “Oh? I will? How narcissistic.” 

Hannibal only smiles and watches him leave. 

They text on and off throughout the days, occasionally flirting when the mood strikes. It gets distracting when Will’s busy moving out of his old apartment and into a new one -- pings every two minutes.  _ You happen to know any handsome men looking to help out this poor old soul with moving into a new apartment?  _ He texted Hannibal when he had a moment. 

_ As a matter of fact, I do.  _

Will smirked as he typed out his response.  _ Goodie, bring yourself over.  _

_ You trust me enough to know where you live? I'm shocked.  _

_ Fine, know anyone else? _

_ I never said no, especially to such a person in need.  _

Will ignores his ears turning red resolutely, instead boxing up another thing and taking it out to his Volvo when a Bentley pulls up and parks next to his car. “Does the word subtlety mean anything to you?” Will teased, shutting the trunk door. 

“Would you like the dictionary definition?” Hannibal snarked back as he disembarked from the car. 

Now it wasn't fair that even in a plaid button down, Lucas still looked refined. Rolled to his elbows, with a white shirt beneath it… Will moved himself out of that train of thought and kept his eyes on Lucas' face in rebellion. Lucas smirked and eyed Will’s trembling arms. “Need a hand?” he asked. 

“No, I'd like the other handsome helpful man to help me out.” Will said sarcastically. Before he could move, Lucas swooped in and took the rapidly falling apart box from him, lodging it in the trunk. 

Lucas asked him with a quirk of his brow, “You think I'm handsome?”

“I think you're awfully convenient.” Will snapped back, despite the blush high on his cheeks. “I have a couple more things in the apartment, if you wanna help me grab those,”

Lucas eyed him with a bemused smile before heading inside, and Will definitely did  _ not  _ stare at his butt, no sir. He followed the blond in after a moment, grabbing a box and attempting to open the door to his Volvo. “Allow me.” Lucas said, one hand on Will’s hip and his other popping open the back seat door. The hand on Wills hip felt burning hot, and he nearly jumped out of his skin the very moment the palm was laid on his hip. 

Luckily, he held it together enough to cram a box in the back seat and to stand back up, only to find Lucas hasn't moved from his spot, effectively trapping Will in. “Do you mind?” Will asked, exasperated and folding his arms.

“Not particularly,” was the smug reply.

Will bit back a groan and hung his head to stare at his shoes. Before he could stop himself, he snarked, “What, liked the view, did you?”

“Immensely.” Lucas smugly replied again. A blush crawls up Wills cheeks, and he shoves at Lucas' arm, ducking under and heading back into his nearly dilapidated apartment. 

“He’s so annoying.” Will grumbled to himself, grabbing another box and loading it into the car. They get things loaded without much more fuss besides Lucas’ ill-timed flirting. 

_ Christian, it's Mary. Do you wanna make the hit tonight?  _

He wiped his phone on his jeans before replying: 

_ Sounds good.  _

“Thanks for your help, Lucas,” Will says distractedly. 

“Will you need my help getting everything unloaded?”

Will slides his phone back into his pocket. “No, thank you, I got it,” he said, smiling sheepishly at Lucas’s expression. “I appreciate the help, honest.” he says sincerely. Lucas must believe him because he nods silently and kisses Will's hand in goodbye.


End file.
